The Tinker's Girl Read online

  'Oh--' Mr Fowler was again flapping his hand 'don't let that worry you for a moment; it happens all the time. We've been in business a long time, and we know it's better not to ask too many questions, because rarely do you get a truthful answer. But your case has been quite an exception.' He looked towards his partner, who, in turn, nodded vigorously in agreement, before turning to Bruce and saying, 'You had nothing to hide, and that was unusual.'

  Bruce's last memory of this event was of himself shaking, first, Mr Fowler's hand, and then Mr Claire's, and when he went to repeat the process, they both led him to the outer door, laughing as they ushered him out.

  Yesterday had been a wonderful day, but what would today hold? they wondered.

  So here they were seated in the long room and awaiting Richard's arrival.

  Max was tidily dressed and Bruce looked more than tidy, as he was wearing his tweed suit and a collar and tie. Not, on this occasion, the string tie that he wore with his field clothes, but a proper one that went under the collar.

  Jinnie wore a flowered print dress, which was waistless and hung, slack, down to the top of her house shoes made of soft leather. She was carrying the child high under her breasts, but the bulge did not seem to detract from her height: she appeared even taller than usual. Her hair was arranged up on the top of her head in a soft coil, rather than the usual plait. At this moment she appeared like a woman in her twenties, for there was a maturity about her, suggested not only by the bulk of her body but more so by the expression on her face and by her carriage.

  As Bruce looked at her admiringly he wished that he had kept some of the jewellery so that she could have worn the bangle or the necklace just to show him.

  He glanced at the clock on the sitting-room mantelpiece.

  Ten minutes to eleven. He leant forward and, lifting a log from the wicker basket to the side of the fireplace, he threw it to the back of the blazing fire, sending wings of sparks up the broad chimney. It was as he straightened up that Max said quietly, 'There he is outside. W-w-will I go and take the horse?'

  'No; no, sit where you are; let him tether it himself, he might need to leave quickly.' He had glanced at Jinnie as he said this, but she made no response. And when she was about to rise, he said, 'Sit where you are, I'll open the door to him.' .

  When the rap came Bruce remained seated until it was repeated; then he got up, walked slowly down the room, opened the door and stared at his one-time friend, who said stiffly, 'I have called to speak with Miss Howlett.'

  'Yes, I'm aware of that. Come in.'

  On entering the room, Richard looked to where Jinnie was sitting in a straight-backed chair and, seeing Max standing to her side, he addressed him pointedly: 'This was to be a private meeting between . . . well, Jinnie and me.'

  Jinnie pulled herself round in the chair now, saying stiffly, 'Whatever you have to say to me can be said in front of my family.'

  He now walked smartly up the room towards her, and confronting her, he said, 'This matter I wish to discuss has nothing to do with your so-called family; it concerns only you and me.'

  'That is the way you may see it, Mr BaxtonPowell, but as I see it, anything you may wish to say to me must be said in front of them.'

  He now turned and looked at Bruce, then from Bruce to the big fellow. It would be impossible, he told himself, to bring up the matter before them, and he voiced this:

  'I can't discuss anything in front of them; it rests solely between us.'

  Her voice changed as she cried now, 'Nothing rests solely between us. Get that into your head, Mr BaxtonPowell.

  Nothing, nothing.'

  Her tone, her manner, the whole set-up angered him, and raising his voice, he cried, 'You are carrying my child! That concerns me. It is my child and I have some say in the matter, a great deal of say in the matter. I wish to give it a name and I can only do this if I adopt it.'

  Following this statement, there was a dead silence in the room, although the exchange of glances between Bruce, Max and Jinnie spoke volumes for their feelings.

  But it was Richard who spoke again, saying, 'You look surprised, but it is only right that I should do something in this matter; take on the responsibility.'

  He was about to go on when he was interrupted by a laugh. It was a high, weird sound issuing from Jinnie's lips and the bulge of her body shook with it, and what she said, and to Bruce, was, 'The subtlety of it. That's the word, isn't it? It's a big word that, subtlety, isn't it, Bruce? Well, you've just heard somebody murdering that word: his wife's had a miscarriage and, as common gossip has it, she will not be able to bear another child; so I ask you, what does would-be papa do? He recalls a morning he had a bit of a romp with the slut up the hill; and she's carrying fine. And all he has to do is to tell her he is willing to relieve her of it.' And she returned her attention to Richard and in a mocking tone she

  said, 'Oh! Mr Baxton-Powell. Do you know what I'd do before I'd let you have my child? I'd drown it, and

  take the consequences!' And so vehement was her tone that it prompted Richard to come back to her with, 'I can take the matter to law and I shall do. You are carrying my child and I intend to lay claim to it whether you like *

  it or not.' He now leaned towards her and emphasised

  'Do you hear me? I want that child, my child, and I'm determined to have it by fair means or foul, and a court

  will surely judge which house is preferable for the raising of my son ... or daughter. And get it into your head: neither you nor anyone else will stop me.'

  So much in earnest was he that the three of them suddenly realised that the law was always on the side of the gentry. What chance would she have of standing up against him in court? She had, after all, given herself freely to him.

  He was saying, 'Now, there you have it. I'll give you a week to think it over before I take pro--' He hadn't finished saying the word before he felt himself being lifted bodily by an arm under his chin and then thrust against the wall, and hearing Jinnie crying, 'No! No!

  Max. Don't!'

  When Bruce sprang forward, he was swiped viciously aside by Max's boot, and Max, his face almost touching Richard's, growled into it, 'l-l-listen carefully. I c-c-could k-k-kill you this minute. But I'll l-l-leave it; but sh-sh-should you t-t-take any steps to c-c-carry out your threat, I will d-d-do for you.'

  Richard's face had blanched as he listened to the voice stammering at him. He realised the man meant what he said. He was almost choking now and instinctive reaction made him thrust his knee into Max's groin, causing the big man to stagger back, one hand holding himself; but the other, doubled into a fist, now went straight into Richard's face, and Jinnie screamed,

  'Enough! Enough! Stop it! Max. Please. Please, for me, stop it!'

  Max swung round and leaned over the back of the high winged chair, the sweat running down his face.

  Bruce now limped down the room and opened the door, crying, 'You'd better get going while the going's good.'

  But Jinnie's voice broke in, crying, 'Not for a minute, Bruce; I have something more to say.'

  She was looking directly at Richard now, who was standing holding his face, and she said, 'You'd better know now before you take court proceedings, that it isn't your child I am carrying, Mr Baxton-Powell,' and the words were calmly spoken. 'You see, if I remember correctly, at that time you seemed to find me well practised, aware that I made everything so easy for you - no crying or hysterics. It's a wonder you didn't twig.' And noticing the expression on his half-covered face, she added, 'You weren't the first, as you ought to have realised.'

  There was a smothered gasp from Max and Bruce as they stared at her, although neither made any comment, for Richard was saying, 'I don't believe it, not a word of it. I was the first with you, and I know it.'

  'You might think so. But there are many ways to deceive a man. I was never really the sweet, ignorant little girl you took me for. Anyway, there it is.'

  'I still don't believe you.'

  Now her
voice rose and she said, 'Doesn't matter, but I'll swear every word of it in court, and as we're being married shortly.' she now turned and glanced at Bruce before looking back to Richard and continuing, 'so that his child can have a name, you carry out your threat and take it to court and, I tell you, as I'm standing here looking at you and despising you for the weak creature you are, I will stand up in that court and describe the details of the events, believe me I will just as they occurred on both occasions: I was taken by surprise in the first place with Bruce here, who had held back for so long, but I wasn't with you. Oh no, I meant to taste you, and I did.'

  As if of one accord the three men cast their gaze downwards. Not one of them could believe he was listening to the Jinnie he thought he knew. This girl who was speaking did indeed sound like a town slut. Had they not known her since she came into this house a waif and expressing moral indignation at being handled?

  They could have no idea of the turmoil that was raging inside her at this moment, and when the man she had loved, even adored, stared back at her with curled lip and said, 'I am the simple one. I see that now. And you are as you have been depicted for a long time: just a tinker's girl. You know now what I hope? I hope that you are speaking the truth and that you are carrying no part of me inside you, for I wouldn't want my breeding tinged with the creature I see before me now. Yes, indeed, I've been the foolish and blind one.' And with this, he bent and picked up his soft riding hat from where it had fallen to the floor.

  When he made his way towards the door, Bruce did not bar his way, nor was a glance exchanged between them.

  The only sound in the room was the hissing and cracking of the logs on the fire; but Max was staring at Bruce and when he did speak he said the same word

  twice, though as a question, 'No? No?' and Bruce almost screamed back at him, 'No! No! You shouldn't have to be told that. She's lying.' Then rounding on Jinnie, he said, 'Why did you have to come out with that? And in that fashion.'

  'For the simple reason I know him better than you, despite all your years of friendship,' she cried, her voice bitter now.' He's desperate. His wife will never be able to give him a child, so I was his last chance. And whatever happened, he would have continued to think of it as his, as his own. Yes, Bruce, surprisingly, I know him better than you do. And in court, you know, everyone would have been on his side: there would be his poor wife who could not bear any more children, which would have brought him added support. In fact, everyone would have been on his side. I was the slut up in the hills and a product of the workhouse.'

  When Bruce dropped into the armchair, she said to him, 'You needn't worry on one score: we'll hear no more from him. On the second, I don't think you need to let that worry you either.'

  He passed no remark on this cryptic comment, but, bending down, pulled up his trouser leg and turned back the top of his stocking to reveal blood oozing from a number of grazes on his shin, then looked at Max, saying, 'You never do things by halves, do you?'

  'Don't roll the black stocking back on that,' Jinnie said; 'it could be poisoned,' and to Max she said, 'Bring a dish of water, will you, and a soap and flannel.'

  Without uttering a word, Max shambled down the room and into the scullery. On this, Jinnie dropped to her knees in front of Bruce and pushed his trouser leg further over his knee, saying, 'Keep it clear of the scratches.'

  Then, without pausing, she added, 'You never thought I had it in me, did you? Well, you're not the only one, I never thought I had it in me either. I think it must have come from my tinker's breeding, as he said, don't you?'

  She lifted her head and looked into his eyes. 'Anyway, I'm glad that I've got that in me, because it's help me to ask if you will marry me, Bruce.

  *

  His injured leg jerked so quickly it almost hit he bulge, and he had to put out a hand to stop her from tumbling backwards.

  ' Oh! Jinnie. Jinnie.' He was on his feet now, his trouser leg dropping to his ankle again. 'You really mean that don't you?'

  'I really mean it.'

  He drew his head back from her face now, saying,

  'What about the brother bit?'

  'Oh, I lost him some time ago.'

  'You did?'

  'Yes, Bruce; yes, I did. I wouldn't have been able to come out into the open and say what I've just said before this morning's events, for, at the time, I felt I was fighting for my life and for the life within me, and for the life lived with you and Max in this house. It seemed to me that these were all at stake.'

  His arms were about her now and he said, 'Well, thank God for this morning,' and bending forward he gently put his lips on hers, just gently. She did not return the kiss but her gaze was soft on him.

  When Max came back into the room, carrying the dish, Bruce greeted him loudly with, 'You know what the latest is? She's asked me to marry her.'

  Max stopped, and the water jerked in the dish. Then, a wide smile lightening his face, he said, 'All by herself?'

  'All by herself, Max, all by herself; but I don't know whether or not I'll go through with it.'

  At this Max put the dish on the rug and said, 'No.

  You're r-r-right. It needs ccconsideration.'

  Where did the rumour start? With Eliza Fenwick? or peter Locke?

  During the course of enjoying some gossip, Peter had told Mrs Stevens that he had met young Mister Richard coming away from the farm up there. He was on his horse, but it was evident that he had been in a fight, for his face was scarlet and one eye was half-closed. He had passed him as if he weren't there. And he had said to Mrs Stevens, 'Now I ask you, why should anybody up there want to give him a black eye? And there's a funny tale going round; though of course you shouldn't believe all you hear. But it comes from the horse's mouth, so to speak: Eliza Fenwick. Second housemaid, she is, at the Baxton-Powells. Well, she is supposed to have told the cook what she heard in the dining-room through the let bits and pieces of it - but you know what these lasses are.

  Cook warned her to keep her mouth shut but, you know, the cook is cousin to Mary Fitzsimmons up in The Hall, so you needn't ask how Mary Fitzsimmons got to know about that, and then the family rumpus that took place some time later in the drawing-room. But it's not up to me to repeat what's being said. It'll come to light soon enough.' And at that, the tantalising man had walked out of Mrs Stevens's kitchen.

  Jinnie's child was born on the first day of May 1873, less than three months before her seventeenth birthday.

  Mrs Stevens weighed it on the kitchen scales and found it to be seven pounds ten ounces which, she said, was quite big for a girl, and she called up the room to Peg Carter, the midwife from Allendale, 'Not bad, seven pounds ten ounces, and it a girl.'

  'That's the second time you've given me her weight.

  Are there twins, and I missed one?'

  The large-breasted midwife laughed down on Jinnie and she, although weary from intermittent straining over the past ten hours, smiled back at her, saying, 'One was enough.'

  'Yes, me dear. Yes, me dear; one's enough for anybody.

  Now, just rest there. I'll have you all fixed up in two shakes of a lamb's tail, and then I'll let them in. As I said to them a minute back, they're nearly

  as interested in you and it as they would be in a pig with a good litter. Now you just drop off and have a nap.'

  'I don't feel sleepy, Mrs Carter; not that way sleepy, if you know what I mean.'

  'Yes, I know what you mean, so let's get you all right for the presentation. Blow your nose, and I'll see there's no cabbage between your teeth. Have you ever noticed, me dear, that people always leave cabbage between their teeth? You can always tell what vegetable they've had for their meal; there's always a bit of green stuff sticking out.'

  She was a very funny woman, was Mrs Carter, but so land. They were all kind. Jinnie had been amazed at the kindness of everybody during these past two months. It had been as if she had suddenly turned into someone else. But then, perhaps she had, because she was no longer the little s
cullion up on the hill, or that tall young lass who could turn her hand to anything; she was Mrs Bruce Shaleman. But even before that, before they were married in that office in Newcastle, with Miss Caplin and her aunts and the two nice solicitor men, and Max acting as her father, and the lovely dinner they'd had after; and oh yes, the open carriage drives they'd all had to and from the station at Hexham, the whole day had been out of this world. At one time, she had almost cried when the two old solicitor men had kissed her hand. But before that day she had already changed.

  Was it from the time Richard scooted off to France with his wife? Yes, perhaps. How the truth had got around she didn't know, but it seemed that everyone was seeing her in a different light because she had kept her mouth shut about him. However, to her mind now, it was all a sad affair, for his people had also gone to France on what had been an extended holiday.

  Only three servants were left behind to look after the house. At times she felt very guilty, because the whole family seemed to have been broken up through her and that one glorious mistake. No matter what she thought or how she tried to forget it, that morning would live in her memory for ever. Yet she had managed to make him believe that he hadn't been the first. He had been the first, though, and here she was with his child.

  And though she was married to Bruce, he was still the first; indeed, so far, the only one. But Bruce was good, more than good; in fact, he hadn't made any demands upon her at all. He had said he wouldn't do so until she was ready. He was good, and yes, she felt love for him, not with the ecstasy of that hot summer morning, but nevertheless she knew it was love she felt for him.

  She heard Mrs Stevens crowing a tune to the baby. She had become a good friend, had Mrs Stevens, although she was gossipy. She had amazed her some time ago by telling her that Roy had known who the father was all the time; in fact, from the very morning when he had come up and found Mr Richard's horse in the stable. But he had kept his mouth shut. He was a nice boy, was Roy.